Free Strands of Sorrow by John Ringo

likely,” the corpsman said. “We’ll be able to figure out better with the ultrasound. Assuming you don’t pop before then. Okay, clothes back on. We only brought ten expectant mothers with us and two corpsmen. We rescue many more like you, Terry and I are going to be busy as hell.”
    “I’m surprised any corpsmen survived,” Nicola said.
    “Guess you didn’t have a shortwave, huh?” the corpsman said. “We were in subs. Uninfected. We got uncanned, thank God, when the Squadron started making vaccine. And most of us have been landed pending the arrival of the baby wave. Which is shaping up to be a doozy. Twenty corpsmen, six physician’s assistants off the boomers, one SF medic, two if you count a guy who turned out to be a general and is on his way to Pac, one, count ’em, one , female nurse. Nearly two thousand pregnant women most of whom appear to be scheduled within a month of each other. So far we’ve had fourteen viable births from the Wave. A few from earlier who were pregnant when the Plague hit and survived everything. But fourteen, so far, from the Wave. And, unfortunately, a bunch of stillbirths and a few ladies we’ve lost due to complications. When it hits in earnest . . . it’s going to be interesting. Don’t figure on seeing any of us unless you’ve got serious complications. You’re probably going to be handling most of it on your own or with a friend.”
    “Okay,” Nicola said.
    “There are umas,” the corpsman said. “Midwives that is. Some of them have experience, some of them just went through the class. You’ll probably have an uma. Who might be a guy, by the way. Main thing is sanitize the area, both the bedding and your pubic region. Clean and fresh newspapers, if you can find them, work well for that. They’re disposable and the ink is antiseptic. Shave the pubic region for sanitary purposes. Wet it down with Betadine of which, fortunately, we have a shit load. Then grit your teeth and dig in for the ride. Nine times out of ten, even first mothers just manage to push the baby out eventually without a lot of problems. Pain, yes. Seriously life-threatening complications? No. There’s classes going on on how to breathe and what not. You’ll find the schedule posted on the bulletin boards or on the Squadron net. Questions?”
    “Anesthetics?” Nicola asked.
    “The only good one, for values of good from what I hear, is an epidural,” the corpsman said. “The only person barely qualified to administer one is our single MD, who is in Gitmo. And he’ll be busy doing C-sections when there are complications. We’ve got some soma which is supposed to help, some. Other than that, it’s the really old-fashioned way. Big thing is keep the area as clean as possible. More questions?”
    “No,” Nicola said.
    “You’re going to be fine,” the corpsman said breezily. “You’ve got a good strong baby there from the heartbeat, and you’re in good physical condition. Right now, our PA and our SF medic are performing assembly line C-sections of women from the civilian side of Blount’s Island who are at death’s door and still carrying a fetus. You seriously want to complain ?”
    “No,” Nicola said after a moment’s thought. “One issue. I’m reactivated.”
    “What are you?” the corpsman asked. “Or were or whatever?”
    “Captain, U.S. Army Reserve,” Nicola said. “I got activated as a U.S. Navy lieutenant for some reason.”
    “Oh, sorry, ma’am,” the corpsman said. “And, yeah, if you’re reserve, you’re reactivated, ma’am. At rank but into the Navy or Marines since we don’t have an Army right now. Wasn’t on your paperwork, ma’am. I’ll clear you for light duty, ma’am.”
    “I’ll need a flight physical as well,” Nicola said. “I’m a pilot.”
    “Great,” the corpsman said. “Just great. Sorry, ma’am, but that’s not going to happen any time soon. I’m not even sure what all a flight physical entails. I’m clearing you for